<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>In the Beginning by Hatswithpompoms</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26969119">In the Beginning</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hatswithpompoms/pseuds/Hatswithpompoms'>Hatswithpompoms</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>RWBY, Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Fusion, Mentions of Death, Some depictions of violence, Work In Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 20:40:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>19,234</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26969119</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hatswithpompoms/pseuds/Hatswithpompoms</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary Winchester died one stormy November night on her way to work, leaving her husband and two sons to travel the continent of Anima, hunting Grimm.<br/>10 years later Lucifer Novak walked out of his house and never returned, leaving 9 siblings and a work consumed father behind, his body was never found. On the same day, outside a small village in Anima, Sam Winchester unlocks his semblance.<br/>Yet more years in the future, Sam, Dean and Castiel find themselves at Beacon Academy, entangled in a plot that is decades in the making. </p><p>A RWBY Supernatural fusion, sticking mainly to RWBY canon with supernatural characters; the main story will be similar to that of RWBY but with some main differences as the characters and relationships are different.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Beginnings</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>First things first, you don't have to have watched both shows to understand the story. Hopefully RWBY's lore should be clear to anyone who hasn't seen the show. </p><p>So, I had the idea to shove the supernatural characters into the RWBY world and story; obviously they didn't just fit nicely into each character's role because the shows are quite different, but after a bit of thinking on it I came up with a few ideas and I now have a general plan of where I want to go with this story. As stated above it mostly sticks to RWBY canon, however the story does take some aspects of supernatural canon and incorporates those into the RWBY mythology, as well as changing some of the aspects to better fit the story I want to tell. Generally though the changes hopefully shouldn't be too jarring for someone who's familiar with RWBY canon. </p><p>On one last note; pairings. I have decided on a few pairings but I don't want to put them in the tags for three reasons. One, they're not concrete yet and I don't want to disappoint anyone. Two, I don't generally write romance as anything but a subplot or something that has significance to the overall story, so it won't be a huge part of the story anyway. Three, I feel it spoils the overall story if you know who's going to end up with who at the end, at least for me anyway. However, I would like to point out that none of the pairing will be too obscure of outlandish.  </p><p>Finally, if anyone actually read the story, comment, tell me what you think, I'd love to hear what you thought.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So, I had the idea to shove the supernatural characters into the RWBY world and story; obviously they didn't just fit nicely into each character's role because the shows are quite different, but after a bit of thinking on it I came up with a few ideas and I now have a general plan of where I want to go with this story. As stated above it mostly sticks to RWBY canon, however the story does take some aspects of supernatural canon and incorporates those into the RWBY mythology, as well as changing some of the aspects to better fit the story I want to tell. Generally though the changes hopefully shouldn't be too jarring for someone who's familiar with RWBY canon. </p><p>On one last note; pairings. I have decided on a few pairings but I don't want to put them in the tags for three reasons. One, they're not concrete yet and I don't want to disappoint anyone. Two, I don't generally write romance as anything but a subplot or something that has significance to the overall story, so it won't be a huge part of the story anyway. Three, I feel it spoils the overall story if you know who's going to end up with who at the end, at least for me anyway. However, I would like to point out that none of the pairings will be too obscure of outlandish.  </p><p>Finally, if anyone actually reads the story, comment, tell me what you think, I'd love to hear your thoughts.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>In the beginning, there was a brother and a sister, Light and Darkness. Light was alone, He wanted more than just Him and His Sister to fill the void They existed in. So, He created. All kinds of beautiful creations that glowed with his glory. But His Sister looked on what He had created with disgust; She craved only destruction, and in every creation He made, She saw only their flaws. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>So, She destroyed them and They fought, destroying, and creating, over and over. But conflict can only last so long. Both were tired of their endless battle and so a deal was proposed. That they would create a world together, one filled with parts from both of them. A world of creation and destruction. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>And so, this is what They did, together they created the earth. Light brought life: animals, plants, all the beautiful things. And Darkness brought death: fire, drought, and famine. Then together They made one more creation, something They could both be proud of: Humanity. The God of Light gave humanity the ability to do good, to retain knowledge and to create. And the God of Darkness gave them the ability to destroy, and in doing so the freedom to choose whether to do evil or do good.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>For a while all was well. Humanity flourished and the world prospered. However, Darkness soon grew resentful, She saw only the beauty her brother had created, thriving despite her destructive forces. Humanity had its faults, but it seemed, to Her, overwhelmingly good. So, She decided that if Her Brother could fill the planet with creatures all His own, so could She. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The creatures of Grimm. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Soulless monsters who want only one thing. Destruction. They ravaged the land, creating an endless cycle of destruction and fear in humanity, twisting their desires, and pushing them towards evil out of desperation. Furious at His Sister’s betrayal of His trust, the God of Light brought forth 4 sacred warriors and, with their help, He locked Her away for all eternity, never again to darken the face of the earth. Then He turned to earth, intent on saving it. But His Sister’s power equalled his own, and so He could not banish the Grimm completely.  Instead, He did what He could to help us. He gave humanity dust, so that we might rise above the Grimm and do more than survive. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>And then… He left. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He left the world to its own devices, vowing to return one day and judge how humanity had used his gifts.</em>
</p><p>“But why did the God of Light leave?” Dean asked, looking up at his mother, a frown wrinkling his face, “Shouldn’t he have stayed, and protected us?”</p><p>Mary sighed and put the book down. “No one really knows. But Dean, I believe that balance is important. There cannot be light without darkness, and so the God of light couldn’t stay on earth without his sister. It wouldn’t have worked.”</p><p>“But he’s a God,” Dean protested, “He can do whatever he wants!”</p><p>“Shhh,” Mary glanced over to where his brother slept, “You’ll wake Sammy. And,” she sighed, “He may have been a God, but no matter how powerful someone is, there will always be some things they cannot do. Some choices they must make because there is nothing else they could do.”  </p><p>Dean gave a sigh, “I suppose.” He looked up at his mother. She smiled softly at him. “But I still think it’s a dumb ending to the story.”</p><p>Mary laughed a little and kissed the top of his head, “All stories are based in fact, and no matter where the God of Light is his warriors are here, watching over you, watching over all of us.”</p><p>Dean’s eyes lit up, “Can we listen to the story of the warrior in the woods now!” he exclaimed and then he yawned.</p><p>She didn’t reply at first. There was a silence Dean knew was important, but he didn’t know why. When his mom finally replied she sounded tired, “Not right now Dean, tomorrow night, okay?”</p><p>He nodded, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach and turned to the bed across the room, “Goodnight Sammy,” he whispered, “Night Mommy.”</p><p>Mary Winchester smiled and turned the lamp off and the night light on with two soft clicks. Then she kissed her boys’ heads once more and made her way out of the door. Dean turned over in his bed and looked through lidded eyes at the doors.</p><p>“Goodbye boys.” He heard her whisper. He knew somewhere that she’d used the wrong word, but he was too tired to care. He could ask her in the morning.</p><p> </p><p>There was a man standing in his room. At first, he thought it was his Dad, checking on him and Sam. Then the man turned and he was suddenly very afraid. Strange milky yellow eyes stared at him from across the room. The man’s face was old and wrinkled, like a crumpled jacket. Dean wondered in his panic if the man was a Faunus. That had to be why his eyes looked like that. He looked intently at Dean, put his finger over his lips with a soft ‘shhh’, and turned away.</p><p>Dean watched in terrified silence as the yellow eyed man walked over to Sam. If he had gone for Dean, maybe he would have stayed silent, but Sam was his brother and he wasn’t going to let anyone touch him. He opened his mouth to shout for help and the yellow-eyed man was across the room in an instant. His hand was dry and dirty over Dean’s mouth. A knife pressed into Dean’s throat, held in his free hand. Then he leaned close and whispered in a raspy voice.</p><p>“Stay quiet slugger, we wouldn’t want my hand to slip,” the knife slid over Dean’s skin and the cool of the metal gave way to a sting of pain. Dean gave a whimper and he chuckled. “Now, I’m going to take my hand off your mouth, and you’re going to close your eyes and keep completely silent, no matter what you hear, understand?”</p><p>Dean nodded as best he could and squeezed his eyes shut. There was a sudden cold around his mouth as the heat of the man’s hand was removed. He listened for any clue of what the yellow eyed man might be doing and pressed his mouth shut, trying his hardest to keep his sobs quiet. Part of him wanted to help Sammy, to call out that someone might be hurting him, to scream for help. But then the cut on his throat would flare in pain again and he’d bite his lip. As he did he’d he repeat to himself. <em>It’s just a dream. The warriors wouldn’t let this happen. It’s just a dream. It’s just a dream.</em></p><p>The next morning, he woke up, lying half off the bed, freezing cold. He scrambled out of the duvet as soon as he woke and ran over to Sam’s bed. His brother was sleeping peacefully, breathing heavily underneath layers of covers. It <em>was</em> just a dream, he breathed, just a dream. Sammy was safe.</p><p>“Dean?” His Dad’s voice travelled up from downstairs. “Was that you?” There was no question of it being Sammy because he didn’t wake up until much later than this. His mom and Sam would usually come down hours after Dean and his Dad had woken up on weekends, still sleepy headed and bleary eyed.</p><p>“Yes, Dad” he called back, then he pulled his duvet off the bed and slid down the stairs to the kitchen where John was cooking. “What’s for breakfast?”</p><p>“Pancakes,” said John, choosing that moment to flip one in the pan. Dean watched sleepily as the pancakes piled up on the plate. The only sound was his father cooking, he din’t talk and there was no music playing in the background. Dean thought this was a little strange, there usually was something playing from the radio. When his dad had finished, he turned to where Dean was sitting and stopped.</p><p>“Dean, how’d you do that?”</p><p>“Do what?”</p><p>“The scratch on your throat” Dean went back to last night.  When he sat there, frozen, helpless, to cowardly to protect Sam. <em>It was just a dream. </em></p><p>“I don’t know” he said eventually. He must have done it while he was asleep, and then felt it in his dream. There was no way it had actually been real. He would <em>never </em>let someone hurt Sam like that in real life.</p><p>“You must have scratched it or something,” John said moving closer, there were shadows under his eyes and Dean could smell something on his breath. “I’ll clean it and then you can have your breakfast, alright?”</p><p>He nodded, and then looked to the bottle on the counter. His dad never usually drank that stuff this early.</p><p>After the cut was cleaned, John dished out 3 pancakes to Dean and placed the syrup next to his plate. “You get started son; I’ll go wake Sammy up.”</p><p>Dean looked at him confused but he didn’t elaborate. He wondered why he was waking Sam up now, when Mommy usually did that later when she got back from her late-night shift. Dean thought about it as he began to eat his pancakes. This morning was weird. A couple of minutes later, his dad reappeared with a half-awake Sam in his arms, he then forced his brother into his highchair and began feeding him one handed, while the other hand shovelled pancakes into his own mouth. Sam was barely awake enough to chew, never mind eat his whole breakfast. Dean took over when from his dad when he had finished eating.</p><p>“Dad?” Dean asked, something was wrong.  </p><p>“I’m going to drop you and Sam off at Jim’s ok? There’s something I need to do.” He said, not looking at Dean.</p><p>“But what about mommy?” Dean felt he had to point this out, no matter who strange the morning was. “What happens when she gets home, and we’re all gone? She’ll be worried.”</p><p>His Dad stopped feeding Sam, there was something unreadable in his face. Dean didn’t like it.</p><p>“I’ll leave her a note, okay Dean.”</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>Pastor Jim was a friend of his mom’s. Sam and Dean saw him every Sunday when they went to church with her. He was friendly and always had sweets on him. Dean knew that he was a hunter, before he joined the church, and sometimes he would show Dean the weapons he had used to fight Grimm with before he retired. Right now, though, he didn’t look in the mood, he gave Dean some colouring, Sam some cars, and left them in a back room before going over to talk to John in a hushed voice. Dean knew something was wrong, but he couldn’t figure out what, and it worried him. Last time his parent had gotten like this it had been before they told him about Sam. But something told him that this was different to then.</p><p>It was only a couple of minutes, after his Dad had left that he realised. His dad hadn’t left a note for his mom.</p><hr/><p>Castiel ignored Gabriel’s voice as he slotted the last honeycomb into place. It was an incessant whine in his ear that just wouldn’t stop. He knew that if he just focused on his bees, Gabriel would eventually leave and bother someone else, like Lucifer. Although, considering he was just lazing about on the grass it was unlikely, he’d be any fun for Gabriel to taunt. If anything, the two of them would welcome each other as a mutual cure for boredom and the house wouldn’t survive the day. Castiel paused and blocked out Gabriel’s voice, letting the sounds of his bees surround him. He enjoyed the feeling of their wings brushing his skin as they flew by, the soft tickle of their legs when they landed briefly on him. Then he opened his eyes again, calmer.</p><p>Gabriel was standing right in front of his face.</p><p>“Boo!” he yelled, sending Castiel flying backwards and the bees into a frenzy.</p><p>“Go away!” he growled, turning back to the hive, but his brother didn’t listen.</p><p>“Cassie, Cassie?” he sang instead, “Look what I caught! It’s so fluffy!” He had a bee cupped between his hands buzzing frantically. If it was held there any longer it would probably sting Gabriel to escape, and while Castiel would gladly welcome that retribution, he didn’t want <em>any </em>of his bees to die unnecessarily.  </p><p>So, it was fear more than anger that led him to lose his control, and he launched himself at Gabriel shouting obscenities. The bee was let loose and Gabriel gave a gleeful laugh as Castiel crashed into him.</p><p>They tumbled through the grass in a flying tangle of instinct and muscle memory. They were fighting through feeling, moving so fast, so close to one another that it was impossible to see what the other was doing. One minute he’d be on top of Gabriel and then he’d be flying through the air and slamming on the grass. And then the positions would reverse. They’d been trained by the same person, to use the same weapon, and so their fighting styles were nearly identical. The only difference was that Gabriel was older by two years; so slowly but surely, he began to gain the advantage. Castiel was pinned to the ground and seriously considering using his semblance when the weight on his chest was thrown off and Balthazar was helping him up. He grinned and together they went straight for Gabriel.</p><p>With Balthazar by his side, the fight began to go his way. The two of them were the same age, and so they worked well together, having learned most things at the same time. There was a flow to the fight now, it was less of a scrabbling mess of fisticuffs and more of a proper match. Or at least it was until a ball of pigtails and purple launched herself into the fight and it descended into a complete free for all.</p><p>Castiel caught hold of someone’s feathers from underneath Gabriel’s elbow and yanked. There was a yelp and someone slammed into his knee. Then they rolled and suddenly his face was colliding with Ariel’s back. He took the opportunity to wrap his arms around her waist and throw her to the ground, on top of Balthazar. As he did so Gabriel came up behind him and threw him back on the ground. He let out a very undignified sound and kicked out at Balthazar’s face. Their yell and shrieks grew louder as the fighting became more desperate and contrived. Castiel wasn’t even sure why they were still going, except nobody wanted to be the first to stop.</p><p>“Can you all SHUT UP! I’m trying to study!”, Michael’s voice briefly pierced through the grunts and screeches, but he ignored it, Balthazar was pulling his hair. Then there was a jerk at the back of his neck, and he was yanked back from the fight and into the air. Castiel looked up to see Balthazar, Ariel and Gabriel similarly suspended. Lucifer walked over, one hand up, looking disgruntled.</p><p>“Alright break it up.” He dumped them on the ground with a flick. “All of you are going to do something other than beat each other up loudly, or Michael is going to end up committing multiple fratricide.” Castiel didn’t disagree with this, he was surprised Michael hadn’t already come down and broken them up himself. “And no, I do not mean continue this fight quietly Gabriel because we all know that’s impossible for you to do. Castiel go help Sammy with his bugs. Gabe, Balthazar, one of you can spar with Ari, <em>in</em> the soundproofed training room made for fighting.”</p><p>Once he’d given the orders Lucifer turned and went straight back to where he had been sunbathing. Castiel sighed and went over to where Samandriel was collecting bugs for his shoebox ‘bug house’. He supposed there were worse things to do with your time than this; Castiel actually rather liked insects, which was probably why Lucifer had asked him to help Samandriel. He crouched down in the dirt next to the bowed blond head.</p><p>“Want any help?”</p><p>It took about half an hour to collect the 10 insects Samandriel wanted for his collection. When they were done Castiel took him inside the house to put them in their new home. The shoebox under Samandriel’s bed. There was a slight feeling of guilt as he thought of it, somebody should probably tell Michael it was there before he came upon it by accident. Not right now though, schoolwork seemed to be getting to him more than usual and he was very irritable. He opened the front door for his brother, and they went up the main staircase. It went up towards the wall, ending in a large portrait of his father, before splitting left and right leading to the two main wings in the house. They went left to where all of their rooms, except their father’s, were.</p><p>The rooms had been given leading outwards as each new child was born and Samandriel, being the youngest, was at the end and top of the house. So, it took a while to get there. They had just reached the top of the third staircase, and were finally getting to his room, when Samandriel spotted Lucifer coming out of the bathroom. He must have come inside while Castiel was busy with the bugs. His face was pale and drawn. There was something strange about him, about the way he was walking but Castiel couldn’t quite place it. His brother glanced back into the bathroom he’d come out of apprehensively, and his hands twitched to his eyes in spasms.  </p><p>“Luci!” Samandriel called out to him and went running in his direction. Lucifer looked up at them. Emotions spasmed across his face before settling in a smile that was all teeth. Every action seemed to suggest the kind, mischievous big brother Castiel knew he was but there was something unsettling in the way he held himself. Something off in his eyes. Clearly, he wasn’t the only one who thought this as Samandriel halted in his tracks when their eyes met.</p><p>“Lucifer?” He whispered, pulling his bug book closer.</p><p>“Hey Sammy, show me your bugs later, kay? I have somewhere to be right now” he ruffled Samandriel’s hair, and his voice spun in Castiel’s ears. There was an odd lilt on certain words and the pacing of his speech seemed different. Castiel eyed him warily and moved closer to Samandriel, putting a hand on his shoulder and pulling him away from Lucifer.</p><p>“Come on Sammy, let’s go put your insects in their new home” he said, walking past Lucifer and pushing Samandriel with him. When he looked back at his brother one last time, he was watching them go with a convoluted expression of disgust and worry. Castiel turned away quickly and walked faster.</p><p>After the fact, when bugs were all settled in, and Castiel was reading in his room, the incident seemed imagined. Maybe the stress was getting to Lucifer as well, it manifested differently in everyone after all, and there was no reason to be scared of his brother. He was stressed, like Michael was. That was it, there was nothing else to it, Castiel had just been reading too many horror novels. He had no intention to stop reading them though, he thought idly as he turned the page of his book. The one he was reading now was set on a farm, everybody was tired for some reason, and Castiel could relate.</p><p>He yawned and above him the clock tinged, seven times. Dinnertime. He marked his page and left <em>The Coming Storm</em> on the table. The house was unusually silent for dinnertime. Usually his siblings – the younger ones especially – went hurtling at top speed down the stairs, laughing and chattering. The house was often filled with shouting and the clattering of crockery in preparation as well. So why was it so quiet?</p><p>The answer presented itself when Castiel got to the main staircase. Going down both staircases, his father had lined the wall with pictures of his children. On the wall of the right staircase were single photos of each child in order of age, those were re-done every year. The ones on the left were older. Taken 7 years ago when Samandriel was born, and his father decided that 10 children was enough. They were grouped according to mothers there, in groups of two or three.</p><p>Every photo had been slashed with black marker. The eyes on each one of them completely obliterated. And scrawled across his father’s portrait, the biggest of the lot, were the words:</p><p>
  <em>‘DARKNESS WILL PREVAIL’</em>
</p><p>They all stood in shock until Michael finally tore himself away with the murmured intention of calling their father. Once he had done that the 10 of them slowly made their way to the dining room, although Castiel doubted anyone was hungry. It was only when they finally sat down and saw an empty chair that he realised there were only 9 of them. Castiel didn’t need to check names to know who was missing.</p><p>Lucifer was gone.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A small note on Ariel. She's mentioned briefly in this chapter, and yes, she’s an OC, originally, I was going to write a canon angel in her role, but I couldn’t find one that fitted with what I wanted to do in the story. I've only seen up to the end of season 11 of supernatural so if there is an angel named Ariel in later seasons then I don't know them. Her role in the story will not be a large one, the focus will be on Sam, Dean and Castiel. She does have a set purpose in this story and I’m not just writing her in for the sake of it. I don’t generally like reading OCs in a story that often, however I do enjoy writing them, so having one as a minor character who does have a role in the plot is a compromise of sorts with these two conflicting opinions.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Family</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Blue plastic convulsed in the wind. Rain battered the sides of the tent like it was trying to tear through the material. Dean buried himself further in the sleeping bag, pulled it over his head and tried to sleep more than the 4 hours he already had. Around him the tent poles listed with the wind; beside him Sam gave a small whimper and shifted in his sleep. Normally, Dean would wake him up, but in this weather on the hard, rocky ground in the cold, both of them would be sleep deprived the next day. Instead, he placed their only blanket fully over Sam’s sleeping bag and resigned himself to a sleepless night. He dressed quickly, in as many layers as possible. Once he’d put on the last layer, a battered old raincoat, he picked up his gun and flashlight, and left their tent.</p><p>Outside, the rain was merciless. Massive drops were hurtling down relentlessly, and it took less than a minute for his hair to be plastered to his forehead. The wind meant that it was impossible to keep his hood in place, or his eyes open. He struggled over to where his father was sitting, keeping watch.</p><p>“I’ll take over!” he yelled, “I can’t sleep anyway!”</p><p>His father, knowing that holding a conversation in this weather was useless, nodded and went back towards their single tent, his figure leaning with it in the wind. Dean hunched over in the chair and swung the torch into the dark. There was no hint of the moon behind the thick rain clouds, and the weather made it impossible to keep his eyes properly open. The chances of Grimm coming in this weather were low, but Sammy was having a nightmare, and his father was a constant Grimm magnet, so there was always a chance that something would attack them. With that in mind he kept squinting in the torch light, until the rain lightened, and the sun began to shine in the east.</p><p> </p><p>They were walking today, like they had been yesterday, and the day before that. Unfortunately, the rain had all but destroyed the road they were walking on. Massive brown puddles took up the entire path in places and meant that several detours had to be taken to avoid lost shoes and muddy, soaked trousers. Two hours in and Dean was cursing the entire continent of Anima, and its unpredictable weather; at this rate they’d be lucky to reach the next village by tonight. And, on a completely unrelated note, he was worried about Sam. Normally they’d talk, Sam spouting facts about wherever they were headed, he’d point out local landmarks and fauna and recite off information about them like an encyclopaedia. Now he was walking hunched over, mouth pressed together. He didn’t even seem to notice the surrounding country.</p><p>He took the opportunity, when their father was talking to a fellow walker about the next town, to ask him what was wrong. After some pressing, his brother finally answered quietly, glancing over at their father as he did.</p><p>“I had a nightmare” the answer was clipped and knowing Sam that was all he was going to say.</p><p>But Dean waited, because Sam had had nightmares before and this was different, usually if they bothered him this much then he told Dean. Usually if anything bothered his brother this much he told Dean.</p><p>“There was a woman on fire,” Sam finally continued, “She… she died like mom did.” The last part was said in half words, quickly and quietly. Dean didn’t reply immediately, he didn’t know what to say. Instead, he pulled Sam into a hug, using the action to buy himself time to think of the right words.</p><p>“Just a dream kid, happens to the best of us, you’ve probably just not been getting enough sleep.” He reassured as nonchalantly as he could, unthinking he rubbed his throat as he spoke. Sam smiled a watery smile and pulled away from his arms.</p><p>“Yeah, just a dream.”</p><p>Their father came back soon after with good news, they were close to the town and would likely make it there by nightfall. So, the three of them continued with more energy than they had before, all focused on a warm meal and a proper bed. The remnants of rain glinting in the emerging sun sparkled and danced. Birds were emerging from their hiding spots and diving after the frogs and worms that had been thriving in the weather of the night before. Dean almost felt he could chance a smile at the way the day was going before he smelt it.</p><p>Burning flesh.</p><p>Nobody waited for anyone to say anything. They took off running in the direction of the smell immediately. Dean prayed as he ran that it wasn’t the village they were headed to. He didn’t know if he could stand seeing another massacre this month. There had already been 2 so far, and that was more than enough.</p><p>It wasn’t a town. Somehow it was worse.</p><p>A single figure. Twisted and blackened beyond recognition, their skin melted and hanging off. A stake was driven through the back of their neck and out of their mouth, holding them up off of the ground. A few stray crows cawed indignantly from above them, no doubt annoyed at being chased away from their meal. Behind him Sam retched. Dean turned away. He didn’t want to see this, and Sam needed his help. His brother was on his knees, the watery remains of breakfast lay mangled in front of him. The body was a terrible sight. It wasn’t the worst they’d seen but neither of them had ever seen pictures of how their mother died, they’d only heard their father’s drunken stories. So, Sam’s reaction didn’t surprise him. Dean felt fairly sick himself.</p><p>“That’s her,” his voice was hoarse and unexpected, “That’s the woman I dreamt about”</p><p>Suddenly the retching made complete sense for a different reason. Dean didn’t doubt his brother, he believed that Sam had seen the woman die last night in his dreams, and he knew what it meant. But he wished he didn’t, because Sammy, sweet little Sammy, didn’t deserve to have a semblance like that.</p><hr/><p>The long grass brushed his knees as he walked away from the reassuring hum of his beehive. Every blade was coated in dew and with every step it clung to his clothes, he was already soaked through from it. Castiel didn’t particularly mind this. After a few more minutes, wading through the green and yellow, he made it to the gravel path that led to the main doors. His feet crunched on the sandy stone, and tiny pieces flew up and into his shoes as he walked.</p><p>The door to the house was a massive oak structure, dark and heavy. Above it, was the word HEAVEN in elaborate lettering, cradled by a carving of the God of Light. Castiel supposed the house might have looked like a heaven when it was first built. White walls and neatly kept gardens, filled with flowers. But now it was covered in dirt and the grass hadn’t been cut in months. Nobody had done the weeding, and the windows stayed dirty, unless you cleaned them yourself. After Lucifer disappeared his father had stopped getting people in to do such things, and Lucifer obviously wasn’t there to do it, like he used to. Castiel still remembered him chasing them around with the lawn mower, laughing maniacally. The only person left was Michael, and he had long since given up getting them to do it.</p><p>Inside, however, still looked vaguely heaven like if you squinted. The rooms that were used anyway. They only had a thin layer of dust. It was hard to get that sort of dirt out when everything in the house was covered in ornate carvings. The carpet under Castiel’s feet as he went up the stairs was slightly cleaner; he’d taken off his shoes at the door to preserve that for as long as he could. As he went up the left stairs towards his room, the faces of his siblings stared out at him. Ariel and Gabriel were first, pulling stupid faces at the camera. Then it was him, standing next to a smirking Zachariah, frowning. Castiel didn’t like that picture (partially because it was a reminder that he and Zach shared a mother). After that was Balthazar in some ridiculous pose that always made him smile. Next came Raphael and Uriel, they were standing properly, but there were at least smiles on their faces. And finally, Michael and Samandriel at the top. This was a newer photo than the rest, and it was the most serious of the lot. After the defacing his father had reprinted most of the photos, but he’d had Samandriel and Michael take a new one. Nobody had to ask why.  </p><p>Castiel didn’t pay them much attention, he’d seen them hundreds of times before. Instead, he went straight to his room and began peeling his dew-soaked clothes off himself. The trench coat came off first, it was a good thing he had more than one of them, because this one was filthy. He briefly considered getting one in a darker colour than beige. Then he pulled the dark blue jumper off and dumped it on the bed. His fingers made practiced movements as he unbuckled the harness on his wings. He took off the two diagonal straps first and then the one below that went across his waist. Like he was taking off a backpack, he shrugged it onto the floor. With every buckle undone, tension released from his wings and when he finally had it off, he stretched them to their full length, revelling in every crack they made as he did so.</p><p>There were 4 hours until lunch, and then the quiet mansion would be thrown into a mad rush of preparation. His father was coming for dinner tonight, and that meant hours spent cleaning every corner of the house, used or not. Nobody would mow the lawn though; he was sure of that.</p><p>Castiel had been right about the lawn. That night, Michael cooked a roast chicken, complete with all the sides. The house was made spotless, until Balthazar ‘accidentally’ spilled the gravy on the floor when he was carrying it through. (Michael made him clean the toilets.) After the gravy was cleaned up, and more was made, they finally sat down. There was a slight awkwardness when Michael and his father both went to sit at the head of the table, but Michael quickly changed course and went to his seat on his father’s right. Chuck didn’t notice. After that the dinner was completely silent. Well, it wasn’t completely silent, the clinking of cutlery and the sounds of chewing filled the room, but there was no speaking. Nobody knew what to say. Their father was home so little that when he was Castiel found his siblings became shells of themselves; they were too scared of rejection to put their true personalities on display in front of him. Not that he was any better. He wondered if his father knew anything about his children now, other than their names.</p><p>Halfway through the first serving, Raphael put his fork down on the plate with a decisive chink. He cleared his throat. In seconds, everyone was looking at him. It took him at least a minute after this to say what he wanted to.</p><p>“I’d like to change schools,” He said, firm and unwavering. Now 8 pairs of eyes were fixed on him.</p><p>“Change schools? Where do you want to go?” Chuck asked, acting like he was only mildly interested. Castiel wondered if that was true. Michael tightened his grip on his fork, and Zachariah pursed his lips like there was a slug on his plate. Gabriel sank lower in his seat. Beside him Samandriel had begun building a mashed potato building, determinedly ignoring the rest of the table. Even he knew where Raphael wanted to go, what he wanted to do, but it was another of those things that they left unspoken, as if that way it didn’t exist to wreck their family more. Nobody was prepared for that unwritten rule to be broken.</p><p>“Medical school.” Raphael’s voice was quiet. “I’d like to go to medical school. I’ve even taken the–”</p><p>“Medical school! Really!” Michael interrupted him before he could finish, “It’s a waste of your talents, besides you of all people doesn’t need to go to medical school to heal people. And we’re –”</p><p>“Michael!” This time it was their father that interrupted, sounding invested for the first time that night. He gave Michael a warning look, and turned to Raphael. “If that is what you really want, I’m not going to stop you, as long as you prove to me you’ve thought this through. I don’t want you to ruin your career, or your life, over this. But if you can prove that to me I won’t stop you. Medicine is a valuable career path, and they’d be lucky to have you”</p><p>Balthazar made a constipated noise and hummed louder as he carved patterns into the table. On his other side, Uriel was busy shredding his chicken, barely putting pieces in his mouth. Castiel was following his lead.</p><p>“But!” Michael re-joined the conversation.</p><p>Chuck put a hand on Michael’s arm and continued. “But I would like to talk to you in private before you decide anything, ok?” Raphael nodded. The dinner was quiet again for all of 3 seconds.</p><p>“So, Dad,” Balthazar said, leaning his face on his elbow. He was grinning now, with gritted teeth, “What exactly do you consider a valuable career?”</p><p>“Something worthwhile, something that makes a difference, helps people,” said Chuck firmly, “We’ve had this conversation before Balthazar, I’m not having it again.”</p><p>“Dad’s right. Drop it.” Michael hadn’t touched his dinner yet.</p><p>“Why should I, Mikey,” Balthazar replied with a glare.</p><p>Gabriel gave a small groan, and sank further into his seat, muttering to himself, “Can we go back to awkward silence now?”</p><p>But Balthazar and Michael didn’t hear him, they were too busy trading insults, getting progressively louder as they did so. Samandriel’s mash tower was now reaching record proportions. Uriel’s chicken was mush by now, and Castiel was fairly sure that Raphael didn’t need to eat one pea at a time. Ariel and Zachariah, on the other hand, had abandoned food completely. Zachariah to watch the fight with growing amusement and interest, while Ariel looked at their father expectantly, waiting for him to do something.</p><p>“Boys!” the shout was loud and unexpected, the entire table – including Ariel, who was not a boy as far as Castiel knew – jumped and looked guiltily at their father. “Stop insulting each other! This conversation is over!”</p><p>The rest of the dinner could have progressed in silence from there, but Uriel seemed to want to condemn the entire evening. In his defence Castiel supposed he didn’t expect anyone to hear. After all the last 10 minutes had been very loud and if they hadn’t been plunged into complete silence nobody would have heard him. But now it was quiet again, and so everybody heard when he whispered.</p><p>“Maybe Lucifer was right to leave.”</p><p>The absolute silence seemed to clue him into the fact that everybody had heard him. He had brought up what nobody did. The ultimate unspoken subject. The official line was that Lucifer had been kidnapped, or eaten by Grimm, or fallen and gotten lost, been attacked by a wild animal, killed by a murderer; anything but what they all knew was the truth. Lucifer had left. For whatever reason, he had defaced their pictures and vanished. It was an oxymoron, the treatment of the subject. Lucifer’s room remained untouched, and his seat at the dinner table stayed empty in memorial to him. But nobody spoke about him, his photograph had vanished from the wall. His father seemed determined to both preserve his memory and forget he ever existed.</p><p>After that bombshell everybody seemed to get full fast. Even if dessert was the best cake Castiel had ever tasted. He just wanted to go to his room and bury himself in a book, forget the entire evening, and he was fairly sure most of them felt the same.</p><p>And that is what he did, as soon as the cake had been eaten, he practically ran to his room, followed by most of his siblings. Raphael, however, came up much later, slamming the door to his room so loudly it was impossible to miss him. And Ariel always stayed to help Michael and their father clean up. But whatever Chuck had said to Raphael clearly had the intended impact. He went back to Beacon when the holidays were over, never giving a reason to any of them for completely giving up on what had been his dream since he was a kid.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Welcome to Beacon</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dean sat on the floor of the bullhead, humming <em>This Will Be the Day</em> to himself. At every jolt he clenched his fists and sent flickering glances around the airship. Sam sat next to him, looking amused.</p><p>“I didn’t know you were scared of flying,” he teased.</p><p>“Shut up Sammy, I’m not scared.”</p><p>“Really?” he looked incredulous, “So we didn’t take a boat instead of an airship to Vale because you were scared?”</p><p>“No, it’s cheaper to take a boat, you know that.”</p><p>“Uh huh” Sam laughed and went back to his book. The airship gave another jolt. In all honesty, Dean had taken the boat because it was cheaper. They hadn’t been on an airship since he was 5, when they flew to Anima, and he’d forgotten how much it had terrified him then. The wind outside wasn’t helping. It howled and wailed around them, sending the ship rolling in all directions.</p><p>“I’m going for a walk,” he said, leaving Sam to his reading, he couldn’t stand just sitting there on the floor anymore. Why the hell didn’t this airship have seats? He staggered around, taking the opportunity to look at the other students. He recognised a few from his travels across Anima, but nobody he was close with, not that the title of close friend really applied to anyone other than Sam anyway. The screen at the other side said they were 20 minutes away from Beacon. Dean sighed in relief, enjoying a moment of calm before the ship gave yet another jolt and Dean’s fear of flying was overtaken by travel sickness, arriving with a vengeance, and twisting inside his throat. It mixed with the anxiety that was rising with every jolt, creating a Molotov cocktail of emotions that could only end one way.  He sped his walk up; eyes set on the bin next to Sam. At times like this he wished his semblance worked on travel sickness. Orange and yellow chunks flew into the bin, narrowly missing Sam’s shoes and the acid smell of vomit began to float through the aircraft. Dean ignored the reactions of disgust that followed, instead sinking down next to Sam and taking the ginger root he was offering.</p><p>He was not looking away from the horizon again.</p><p>The girl Sam was talking to giggled at some witty comment his brother made about him. Her curls shook as she replied to him, talking animatedly, and waving her hands around. Dean watched his brother hang onto every word for a while before going back to humming Jeff Williams and staring pointedly at the horizon. She was way out of his brother’s league.</p><p>Outside the sky was a twilight grey, and the birds that were braving the weather were black dots, wheeling in mesmerising circles as the wind buffeted them around. Between the rain and the near darkness that the clouds created Dean could barely see the horizon at all, but he kept his focus on where it should have been, gritting his teeth with every gust of wind. As the airship descended towards Beacon the rain on the windows got louder, and the wind even worse. Yet still, despite the turbulence people were running to the windows and trying to catch a glimpse of Beacon. Dean shifted slightly to get a better view, but he didn’t move. They were going to spend 4 years here; he’d have plenty of time to get used to the view. Across the ship, there were two others who seemed to share similar sentiments. They seemed more interested in reading a book and doodling on the wall than they were in the academy. </p><p>“Dean! Come and see,” Sam called, not looking away from the glass. Dean got up, biting down on the ginger root, and went to the window. A massive structure loomed over the grounds of Beacon. The building was impressive. Almost like a castle from a fairy-tale, especially in this weather, when the lights in the windows cut through the dark haze and gleamed a warm, welcoming light.</p><p>They landed with a bump that set Dean’s heart racing, he bolted out of the ship, breathing a sigh of relief to be on solid, non-moving ground again. He looked back to see Sam waving goodbye to Jessica, as he’d learned her name was. He teased Sam a little about it and was rewarded with an embarrassed look and a brilliant red blush. Then they lapsed into silence and looked out of the shelter and towards the building.</p><p>“So where now?” Sam looked at him expectantly.</p><p>“The entrance hall,” Dean replied.</p><p>“And where’s that?”</p><p>“No clue.” Dean scanned the docking area for somebody who looked like they knew what they were doing. But everyone seemed as lost as he was. People had clumped in small groups and were talking in low voices, glancing occasionally at the rest of the first years.</p><p>“Balthazar!” The voice caught his attention, two boys had not joined a group and instead were arguing loudly. “You said you’d ask someone where we needed to go!”</p><p>“I thought you were doing it.” One of them – apparently Balthazar – said, returning the other’s stare. “Don’t worry about it though we can just ask someone.” He shrugged. “It’s not that hard Cassie”</p><p>Cassie turned away and continued walking. “No, I asked you to find out, seeing as I was sorting out <em>everything else</em>, so why don’t <em>you</em> ask someone like him.” He stopped again and gestured randomly in Dean’s direction. “Or should I take the chance to improve my ‘people skills’.” he put the last part in air quotes.</p><p>“Fine,” Balthazar groaned, then he raised his voice, although everyone could hear them anyway, “Hey flannel!” He grabbed Cassie by the sleeve and began walking over to Sam and Dean, “You heard that, right?” When Dean nodded, he continued. “So, do you know where we’re supposed to go?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Sam piped up before Dean could answer, “It’s the entrance hall, but we’re not sure where that is.”</p><p>“We know where it is,” Cassie spoke up, pulling his arm away and straightening his coat. Then he turned and walked away from the dock.</p><p>Balthazar rolled his eyes. “Follow us.”</p><p>As it turned out everyone heard that, and so Dean found himself second in an odd procession of huddled up people all following them. It must have looked very odd to the people in the school, but he didn’t suppose that mattered. On they went, struggling against the constantly changing wind and keeping their heads bowed in the rain, towards the entrance hall, and their new home in Beacon.</p><p> </p><p>The headmaster of Beacon was not what Dean expected. He shuffled onto the stage late, fidgeting with his sleeves. His clothes were loose fitting and hung off him at odd angles. Brown hair stuck out at all angles and shadows stood out under his eyes on pale skin. The microphone screeched and he dropped his notecards all over the stage. Professor Rosen was quick to run to his side, she knelt down and began helping him pick them up, leaning close while she did. Headmaster Novak gave her a grateful smile and murmured something to her. She flushed, nodded and hurried back to her position behind him on the stage.</p><p>Beside him he heard Balthazar mutter under his breath, “Really Dad, really?” Cassie elbowed him.</p><p>“I’ll, uh, keep this brief,” he said with a small laugh, “So, uh.” He glanced down at the notecards once more before turning his gaze back to the audience. “You have come here today in search of knowledge.” His voice steadied. “To hone your craft and acquire new skills. And when you have finished you plan to dedicate your life to the protection of the people.” Beside him Dean felt Sam straightened up like he did. “But I look amongst you, and all I see it wasted energy, in need of purpose, direction.” His eyes seemed to linger on Dean. “You assume knowledge will free you of this, but your time at this school will prove that knowledge can only carry you so far. It is up to you to take the next step.” When he finished, he went back to the notecards and cleared his throat. “Deputy Headmistress Rosen will tell you more about what you’ll be doing today and tomorrow.” He gestured to the blonde woman who’d helped him earlier.</p><p>She gave a breathy thank you to the headmaster and began telling them about where they would sleep and the initiation tomorrow. As she talked Sam leant over. “He was pretty intense, felt like he was staring through my soul.” Dean nodded; glad he wasn’t the only one who had felt that way about the odd headmaster of Beacon.</p><hr/><p>There was a surprised yelp and Balthazar went flying across the room. Dean wondered if that’s what Professor Rosen had meant when she’d said that fraternising would be dealt with. Balthazar, however, didn’t seem phased. He got up and determinedly made his way back over to the girl he had been talking to. Dean didn’t even think they were fraternising (at least not in the way Rosen had meant it) when he’d been thrown across the room. It looked more like they were trading something, which, he supposed, could have been included in the term fraternising.</p><p>Whoever was doing the throwing about seemed to agree as suddenly the girl went flying across the room in place of Balthazar and landed in between Jessica and Sam. She gave a groan and pulled herself to her feet again, walking over to where a blond girl was sharpening her knife. There she slumped down by the wall and said something, clearly displeased. The rest of the hall was not much different. Most people were sitting quietly, doing their own thing, occasionally looking up when somebody’s screams echoed across the room as they flew. The room was soft and flickering, the unsteady light of the candles contributing to an uneven light. People were spread out evenly, occasionally clumping in groups like they had at the landing bay. He and Sam were on the edge of the group Jessica knew.</p><p>In one corner, however, there was a noticeable ring of empty space. This was where the 4<sup>th</sup> years monitoring the hall were sitting talking. There were 4 of them, a team.  It seemed to be the blond one who was doing the flinging, if the lazy way he was flicking his hand was any indication. He was lying down, stretched across a sleeping bag on his stomach with his hair tied into a messy bun behind his head. A deep orange scarf framed the bottom half of his face, adding to the glare he was giving the rest of the hall. If it were not for the speed at which people were being dealt with, he would have looked half asleep. Dean wondered if he was as bored as he looked. Something a couple of metres to his left seemed to have caught his eye, his head raised off his pillow for a second and he turned his head fully to the side. He ignored whatever the person next to him was saying and…</p><p>Flick.</p><p>A small, skinny body went flying straight into Dean. There was a yelp and a groan as the person tried to untangle themselves. Dean probably wasn’t helping, but instincts had led to him squirming like a trapped cat. Every movement countered the other’s attempt to break free. The other person was skinny, so much so that his bones dug into Dean, knocking the wind out of him. Eventually, they managed to get off each other. By this point Dean was breathless and he felt his semblance kicking in, repairing the bruisers from the kid’s killer elbows. Sam was laughing at him. He ignored it in favour of looking at the kid who had been thrown at him.</p><p>He was built like a twig. Dean was surprised he hadn’t snapped when they collided. Small, bright eyes peered out from underneath a massive woolly hat, and his clothes, despite fitting him well, still seemed to swaddle his tiny frame. Although he wondered how he’d gotten into the academy, Dean found himself warming to the panting boy in front of him. </p><p>“What- what was that?” he pushed his hat back slightly and glanced around the hall, still panting. </p><p>Dean gestured over to the bored blond, “I think that guy over there’s throwin’ people around for shenanigans and shit.” This was accompanied with a shrug.</p><p>The boy frowned, “But I was just showing them my semblance.” He held up a sock puppet. “See?”</p><p>It took several seconds for Dean to process what he was seeing before he could say. “No, no I do not see.” And several more to ask what seemed obvious to the kid. “Why do you have a sock puppet?”</p><p>“I can’t use my semblance without it.” Dean knew he looked disbelieving, because the boy continued speaking. “Look I’ll show you, tell me a truth and a lie”</p><p>“Ummm,” Dean glanced over to the blond. He was standing now, arguing with Balthazar and so Dean decided he was safe. “Sure, ok, give me a second to think.”</p><p>He nodded and waited.</p><p>“So, I just say them?” Another nod. “I was born on the island of Patch, and I went to Signal Academy.”</p><p>The second he had finished his second statement the puppet opened its mouth and said in a strange voice: “Liar, Mr Fizzles can tell when you’re being a liaaaaaar.”</p><p>For the second time in the last 5 minutes Dean found himself stunned into silence. All he could eventually manage to get out was: “Mr Fizzles?”</p><p>The hat boy looked embarrassed. “I was 11, and now I can’t get it to say anything else.”</p><p>Dean gave a laugh and clapped him on the shoulder. “Fair enough kid, that was pretty neat.” He smiled, and deciding he couldn’t mope in the corner watching people all night, Dean asked his name, hoping to continue the conversation.</p><p>“Garth Fitzgerald IV” he said with a grin and then looked at Dean expectantly.</p><p>“Dean Winchester,” he replied, holding out his hand for Garth to shake, “Nice to meet you.”</p><p> </p><p>Sam watched as his brother talked with the boy who had been flung into him. His brother’s face when the sock puppet started calling him a liar was hilarious. Jessica had stopped their conversation and told him to watch, she had been right to do so. Beside him Jessica in hysterics and gasping for air. Between laughs she said breathlessly, “That never gets old, I knew Garth in combat school, he’d do that at the most random times, one minute you’d be minding your own business and the next you’d hear Mr Fizzles just screaming liaaaar” the last word was an attempted imitation of Mr Fizzles’ voice, and at it they fell back into laughter.</p><p>When she had calmed down, Sam began telling her his own stories from his travels across Anima. He left out some details and didn’t tell her why they’d started travelling in the first place. He told her about the prank war he and his brother had one Halloween, that had ended in his father’s hair being pink. He told her about when Dean had unlocked his semblance, and they all thought he’d died. And in return she told him about incidences with Garth’s semblance, and her own.</p><p>“And then the fire department arrives at the house, to me standing there with this one burnt cake, and I’m just like, I only wanted it to cook faster. My parents didn’t let me stay at home alone for months after that.” She smiled, spread her arms and shrugged. “But enough about my disasters, what about you? Have you unlocked your semblance yet? Got any stories?”</p><p>Sam shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I, eh, haven’t unlocked it yet.”</p><p>She paused, emotions flickering across her face. “Oh, well, mine’s had its fair share of disasters too so don’t feel too bad about it, sometimes they cause more trouble than their worth.”</p><p>“Yeah, I can believe that.” Sam looked down, thinking of the screams echoing in flames, and of cold eyes glaring through them.</p><p>“Well, you know anyone here apart from your brother?” she said, interrupting his thoughts.</p><p>“Ummm,” he scanned the room, grabbing at the conversation thread, “Yeah a couple, over there,” he gestured, “That’s Joe, her mum owned a bar Dad used to go to. And.” He pointed over to the other side of the room. “That dude we met once in Mistral, but that’s about it, most of the people my dad talked to were already hunters.”</p><p>“Cool,” she said, “I bet you met some real weirdos out there.” Sam preferred talking about those incidents and so he did. Starting with his favourite story to tell, and least favourite to actually live through, the one about the bugs. They continued their conversation, along that line, laughing over random jokes and stories, and he felt comfortable enough to open up slightly. Talking like this was freeing. He called his father a grumpy old codger with a one-track mind and all he got in response was a brief laugh and the conversation continued. His brother was completely taken by Garth’s semblance and had been quizzing him on it since he got over the demonstration, no doubt running through its uses in hunting as he did so. And that meant that Sam could speak without worrying about being overheard. Of course, he didn’t share anything too damming, he’d only known her for a few hours after all.</p><p>Eleven o’clock was signalled when the lights in the hall abruptly went out. Around him the noise rose from hushed conversations to yells and screeches. He fumbled back to his own sleeping bag and tried to get into it. Thankfully, he’d had practice at this sort of thing, so it wasn’t hard to do, at least not as hard as it was for others, judging by the noise. Pulling the sleeping bag over his ears he shifted on the floor and shut his eyes.</p><p>
  <em>Hooves beat against the track rhythmically. The white horse came into view. Walking at the same steady pace it always did. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He moved back. A crying girl came into view. She was small and dark haired. Tears ran down her cheeks and she sniffled slightly. The horse stopped. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Here her face came into view. Large round glasses, framed dark eyes, set in a round face. Dark curls bounced as she leaned down to talk to the child. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He could see the child. He could see the truth of the attacker too. But no words came to warn her. They never did. The hidden woman prepared to attack. Dust swirled as she shifted her weight. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It always tipped her off. The blade was out seconds after the dust cloud. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>But it was pointless. The arrow sank into her chest. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The shadowy figure always arrived too late. </em>
</p><p>Sam jerked awake sweating. Sun was streaming through the thin curtains; orange light bathed the mostly sleeping students. He took some time to slow his breathing. The dream was not as clear as it had been months ago, which meant it had happened already. If he still paid attention to such dreams, then maybe he’d know. But he’d never met the woman, there was no way he could have saved her. Beside him Dean was still asleep, practically hugging his pillow. He stared at the ceiling and listened to the whispered conversation of the few early risers. It was 5:33.</p><p>The grounds were even quieter than the ballroom. He only saw one person, an older student training, as he walked in the peace to the cliff edge. The sunrise was a whirl of pink and pale blue. He let the morning breeze play with his hair and the sun warm his face. When he felt that the dream was faded enough, he began to walk back. More students were out now, practicing and training. The headmaster was standing watching them, holding a mug that proclaimed him the No. 1 Dad and pointing out mistakes. He stopped when Sam passed, and his eyes followed him as he went back into the ballroom. Sam gave him a small smile and hurried through the door. Dean had woken up.</p><p>“There you are!” he ruffled Sam’s hair, “Was beginning to think you’d run off on me?”</p><p>“Nope still here.” He grinned.</p><p>“Well kiddo, ready for initiation?”</p><p>“Yep, ready to win.”</p><p>“It’s not a competition Sammy, especially not since we’ll be on the same team.” Dean said, then he smirked. “But if it was, I’d win.”</p><p>“First of all, it’s Sam.” He turned away towards the lockers and hunched over slightly. “And you don’t know if we’ll be on the same team.”</p><p>Dean scoffed. “Of course we will, who else do you know here.”</p><p>He sped up, rolled his eyes, and muttered quietly, “I was kinda hoping to meet new people.”</p><p>Dean didn’t hear though, instead he ran past with a triumphant laugh, “Looks like I’m already winning Sammy.”</p><p>“Not for long!” he yelled and brushed the thoughts of teams aside and ran after his brother towards the locker room. They could talk about it when they knew how teams were decided.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>.I don't have much to say, other than that I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Comments and kudos are always appreciated.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Initiation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They stood lined up on small grey squares with the Beacon logo engraved on them. Professor Novak was sipping coffee from a similarly embossed mug, with a look in his eyes that Dean didn’t trust. This feeling was exacerbated by the fact that they were standing on a cliff, on strange silver squares. Professor Novak began, saying something about how they had all trained for years to be warriors. Like the speech in the entrance hall, his nervousness faded as he spoke, and he once again seemed to be evaluating their every twitch. It was only when Professor Rosen stepped up and took over that he started paying attention properly, she was talking about teams after all.</p><p>“I’m sure you have all heard rumours about the assignment of teams,” she gave a gleaming smile, “Well allow us to put your confusion at rest, all of you will be assigned teams,” she paused, clearly enjoying the suspense, “Today.”</p><p>Here Chuck took over seamlessly. “These teammates will be with you for the rest of your time at Beacon, so it is in your interest to be paired with someone with whom you can work well.” Dean looked over to Sam but couldn’t catch his eye. “That being said,” Chuck continued, and he felt his heart sink. “The first person you make eye contact with after landing will be your partner for the next 4 years.”</p><p>Dean let out an audible noise of annoyance. Now it would be ten times harder to ensure Sam was his partner. Possible, but so much harder. Crap. He just had to avoid eye contact until he heard Sam, he could totally do that. Novak continued explaining how he was going to throw them off the cliff and into a forest where they had to find a temple. Dean had no qualms about this part, he’d been doing stuff like this since he was 5. And he’d seen far worse places than this forest. Novak finished off with an ominous statement that seemed to him more like fearmongering than an actual warning. He was of the opinion that the headmaster was enjoying this way too much. </p><p>As people began preparing for launch, and the metal squares sprung them off the cliff, Dean crouched low, and loaded his gun. He was launched first. He twisted round and grinned at Sam, giving him a small salute. Wind rushed past him and the tress blurred. There was a grey blob on the far side of the forest, that was the temple. His target. He let off 3 shots with the gun, using the recoil to fix his trajectory. Then he let off shots every time he felt himself fall until the count got to six. He had to land then, or he’d be out of bullets before he hit the ground. Branches and twigs snapped and splintered under the momentum of his free fall. Solid masses of them crashed into his body and sent dull pain spreading through his body. There was a crack as he hit the ground legs first, to avoid snapping his neck, and his legs took the full weight of his fall. Dean took a deep breath and counted back from 5. Warmth flooded through him as he got closer to one and when he finished the pain was nothing more than a phantom. He got up quickly, double checking his aura levels and setting off in the direction of the temple. All he needed to do before he got there was find Sam.</p><p>“Sam,” he called as he ran, “Sammy!” But there was no reply. This forest was huge, what if he couldn’t find Sam? He slowed his pace. This wasn’t a race, and he might as well conserve energy. Besides at this pace he might miss his brother.</p><p>“Sam?” he said more cautiously. The bushes rustled. He approached carefully, keeping his eyes partially lowered. There was a groaning roar and a massive ursa rose out of the bushes. It was giant and lumbering, its gait mimicking that of a bear, only far more sinister.</p><p>“Ok, not Sam.”</p><p>He leapt back and reloaded his gun. Lowering himself into a better fighting position. Another Ursa had appeared behind the first in the time it took him to do this. Dean unsheathed his machete. The first one lunged forward and he dodged, shooting at its belly, and sliding out of the way. He let off a few more shots at the other as he drove the blade into the first one, which had slumped at the belly shots. Undeterred by the bullets the second grimm took advantage of the pause to go for him. He readied himself. There was a flutter, a thud and a shink, and it fell forwards. Behind it two silver eyes stared into his. Cassie was standing over the disintegrating corpse, blade in hand, looking straight at him.</p><p>He was still wearing a shirt and tie, although they were now slightly rumpled. Similarly, his hair was a mess, with bits sticking up everywhere. His beige coat and something with leather straps had been folded and fixed to his belt and two white wings protruded from his back. They folded themselves to his body as the last ursa faded away. Dean couldn’t tear his eyes away from the shifting feathers, there were a few burrs stuck in them and the edge of one of them was slightly off colour. He shouldn’t stare, but winged faunus of any kind were rare outside of south Anima. They tended to stay in the community that had been established there. Cassie seemed to pick up on the stares because he pulled the leather contraption off his belt and began putting it on. Dean soon realised he was using it to pin his wings back. It was on in under a minute and he pulled the coat on after, hiding his wings from Dean.</p><p>Dean shifted awkwardly. “So, uh, I’m Dean Winchester.” He held out his hand. “Your name’s Cassie, right?”</p><p>His glare became even darker. “It’s Castiel Novak, please don’t call me Cassie.” Then he turned and began walking away.</p><p>Dean ran after him. “Hey man I’m sorry, I heard your friend call you that and I just assumed it was your name.”</p><p>“He’s my brother,” Castiel replied, still walking.</p><p>“Oh, so did one of you get moved up a year? My little brother Sammy, got moved ahead two years so he’s here at the same time as me, I’m really proud of him.”</p><p>“No,” he said, “We’re both 17.”</p><p>“Oh.” Dean left the conversation there, it wasn’t going anywhere and pursued a new avenue. “So, I get it if you don’t want to talk about yourself, that’s fine,” he fired off a shot at an approaching Beowulf, “I don’t really want to either, but if we’re gonna be partners for the next four years, I think we should at least know a little about each other.”</p><p>Castiel didn’t reply immediately, instead stopping and scrutinising something on a tree before turning back to Dean. “You are correct, it would also be advantageous should we encounter any more conflict. My semblance is teleportation, and I fight with this.” he let a silver blade fall from his sleeve and into his hand. He spun it once I his hand. It was an odd shape and engraved with his name on the handle. He showed it to Dean before tucking it back in his sleeve and looking at him expectantly.</p><p>“Oh right, uh, my semblance is,” he stopped trying to think of how to describe without sounding dumb. After running through several different ideas in his head he gave up, “Basically I can heal really fast, like aura but supercharged.” He definitely sounded stupid now. “And I can fight with most weapons, but I usually use my gun and my machete.”</p><p>Castiel nodded, “Good to know.” And they walked on in silence. Dean gave up on conversation, he had four years to try, he wasn’t going to waste all his openers in one go.</p><hr/><p>Sam watched as Dean twisted round and saluted him. He rolled his eyes, even though Dean wouldn’t see him and let the panel throw him into the air. His plan was simple. Land away from Dean, that was easy because he knew what his brother would do, his semblance certainly hadn’t helped his instincts of self-preservation. His landing strategy was similar to Dean’s, using the recoil of the gun to land and guide his descent into the forest, only without the blatant disregard for personal safety. When he landed, he set off, taking the time briefly to double check his direction. Dealing with the forest was easy. He ran into a couple of grimm, but nothing too bad. Compared to some of his father’s drills this was child’s play. </p><p>He let his shoulders sag when he came across someone in a clearing with a mullet. He could have a partner who wasn’t Dean. It wasn’t what his Dad had wanted but he wasn’t even in Vale, and Sam intended to make good use of the freedom. So, he walked closer, frowning when he saw that the guy was sitting typing on a computer, in the middle of a forest full of grimm. He approached carefully.</p><p>“Hi,” he said, cursing his lack of social skills.</p><p>Computer guy looked up; he had a mullet. “Hi,” then he went back to typing.</p><p>“So, I guess we’re partners,” Sam said, hesitantly crouching down to watch what he was doing and checking the area around him, “What are you doing?”</p><p>“Hacking the school camera feed of the initiation, I’m gonna use them to find the temple.” He grinned at Sam. “Could really use a beer though.”</p><p>Sam smiled back, ignoring the beer comment, and studied the computer screen, “So, you almost there?”</p><p>His new partner hit the enter key on his laptop and shifted the screen so that Sam could see, “Already done.”</p><p>“Cool, so if we go…” Sam descended into mutters as he linked the screens up in his head, creating a mental map to the temple. On one of the screens Dean was stomping behind a familiar looking guy in a trench coat. “Ok, got it, we need to go that way.” He pointed. “By the way, my name’s –”</p><p>“Sam Winchester,” his partner interrupted, looking up from his scroll, “You were moved ahead 2 years, and you didn’t even go to a combat school, that’s impressive dude.”</p><p>Sam gave a small smile; on Ash’s screen he could see his student application form. “So’s finding that out. You going to tell me your name?”</p><p>“Dr Badass,” he said with a grin, after a few seconds of Sam staring at him incredulously he gave in, “It’s actually Ash”</p><p>“Well then, Dr Badass.” Sam smirked, pulling Ash to his feet. “Let’s get going.”</p><p>The forest was fairly silent after that, which meant that Sam didn’t get a chance to see Ash fighting. Something he was eager to see, considering the dude looked like he’d be more at home drinking with guys twice his age. They found the temple in another clearing. Moss crawled over the stones and chess pieces stood at waist height upon pedestals. Some of them were already missing. Ash walked over and picked up a knight, he glanced back at Sam, confirming the choice. Sam shrugged in reply. He walked back, before stopping.</p><p>“What the hell?” he whispered. Sam turned.</p><p>“Son of a BITCH!!” Dean and his partner were flying over the trees towards them. His partner had his arms around Dean and was flying erratically, slowly losing altitude. Behind them a massive nevermore screeched, gaining with every wing flap. Ash took out a long black weapon that Sam could have sworn was his laptop and fired off a few shots at the grimm, narrowly missing the flying pair. Dean cursed some more. Sam grimaced as they slammed into the gound, rolling several feet entangled together. The faunus was the first to raise his head.</p><p>“I <em>told </em>you that was a bad idea,” he said, then he added, as if an afterthought, “Assbutt.”</p><p>Dean gave a groan and raised his head to glare at him. “Not my fault you can’t handle a little extra weight. Also, what the hell kinda insult is assbutt?!”</p><p>“A good one,” his partner retaliated, “And that was more than a little extra,” he stated as he walked to the temple and picked up the other white knight. Then he turned to Sam and Ash. “My name is Castiel,<em> apparently</em> I should introduce myself to people more so I’m doing it.” He glared daggers at Dean.</p><p>“Yeah, I guess it’s important,” Sam said, “I’m Sam, his brother.” He gestured to Dean who had gotten up and was making faces at Castiel. It was at that moment they remembered the nevermore. Or rather, the nevermore chose to remind them with an ear-splitting scream and a hailstorm of feathers from its tail.</p><p><br/>“Take cover,” Dean yelled, throwing him and Ash to the ground and leaving Castiel was left in front of the oncoming barrage. Through Dean’s arm he saw him vanish as the feathers sunk into the ground.</p><p>“We have to do something” Castiel shouted, suddenly behind them. He drew his weapon and flared his wings out.</p><p>“Agreed.” Dean pointed to the left of the temple. “We have what we need, now we should run!”</p><p>Castiel hesitated a second before running after Dean. Sam and Ash followed behind. They ran without stopping, the bird close on their tail. Every so often one of them would turn and shoot at it, but nobody stopped for long. Castiel had begun flying.</p><p>“Out of the way!” the yell came to their left and Balthazar came flying into their path, Garth was close behind him panting loudly. Following him were Jessica and Joe. Joe was slightly father back and much closer to what was on their tail.</p><p>“Deathstalker!” Someone yelled. Balthazar swerved round and, seeing Joe lagging behind, dove back. He picked her up and flew forward, throwing her to the front of the small pack running from the deathstalker. They soon joined their small group and they all found themselves running from both the grimm. There was a cliff ahead, prefaced by a gorge, and ruins that bridged across it. They all silently agreed to head for there. The old stone felt solid under his feet, different to the soft, muddy grass of the forest. The nevermore let out a call and flew straight for them. Then there was no ground beneath his feet.</p><p>
  
</p><p>“Sam!” Dean whipped round as he fell with the bridge.  Sam twisted himself round and began firing off shots, using the recoil to push himself up towards the bridge but wasn’t getting him high enough; he was still metres away from the bridge. Dean saw this too, he turned and yelled, “Cas!”</p><p>His son didn’t stop to ask what this shout meant. He jumped off after Sam, blinking out of existence only to reappear beneath the younger Winchester. He barely avoided Sam’s shots as he flew straight towards him and began hauling him up. Balthazar arrived seconds later and together they heaved him onto the bridge where Dean had joined Jessica in shooting at the nevermore.</p><p>She was firing off fire dust bullets rapidly and gathering them into one ball with her free hand. Once the ball was the about the size of a dog, she let it loose, launching it at the nevermore and knocking it back slightly. Beside her Dean was letting bullets fly, peppering the bird’s underside. Soon Sam joined them, his gun doubling the impact of Dean’s. But still the nevermore wheeled round and sent another hail of feathers at them, unfazed.</p><p>On the other side, Garth, Ash, and Joe were not doing much better. Garth was launching his weapon at the deathstalker’s legs, trying to slow it down, while Ash bombarded it with purple explosions. On the other side of the beast, Jo’s knives weren’t doing much either. Then, as it went for her, she slid down and threw a knife with gritted teeth. It spun round the oncoming claw and landed straight in the deathstalker’s eye. It cried out in pain and pulled its claw back, only to send it straight at Jo, sending her flying into the wall. She shrieked and Balthazar turned away from the nevermore.</p><p>“We have to get over there!”</p><p>Jessica sent off the last of her flames and nodded. He wasted no time in picking her up and flying over. When her weight began to weigh him down, he flung her across to the other side and she landed and rolled absorbing the impact. He landed shortly after in a crouch and spread his wings ready to fight. The deathstalker sent Ash flying past him and into the gap. Knowing what was coming, he reacted far quicker than Sam had and let off another purple explosion, using it to propel himself to the other side. He landed next to Dean and Sam. By some miracle of chance their teams were fighting together. Chuck smiled; these would be some of the easiest team leader appointments he had ever made.</p><p>Balthazar was the first to take charge. It took him all of 5 seconds to take in who was fighting on his side and he began shouting orders.</p><p>“Garth claws, blondie, slow it down!” He pointed to who he meant as he spoke. They leapt into action. Garth let his rope loose, using the weight at its end to restrain the deathstalker’s claws and then leaned back, trying to hold them in place. As he did so, Jo threw three light blue knives. They landed on the deathstalker’s legs, bursting into shards of ice, and holding the creature in place.</p><p>“Fire-girl!” he pointed to the tail, which was already swaying slightly. Jessica fired off a round of fire dust bringing it into a stream behind her before sending it straight at the joint between the tail and the stinger. As the flames died out Joe launched a knife at the joint, slicing it and sending it into the deathstalker’s armoured head, before it landed Balthazar reached out a hand and the stinger was pulled in his direction. It vanished and Garth began spinning Balthazar, using his weapon’s rope. He spun and spun, then sent it upwards, Balthazar let go and went flying up into the air. He went higher and higher until he stopped and hung in the air for a long second. Then he turned his body as he began to fall back down. He became a bullet as he streaked downwards towards the ground. Closer and closer. When he got close, he moved his hands and the stinger reappeared in his grasp, Balthazar adjusted it in his arms and used the momentum of his dive to drive it into the grimm’s skull. The beast gave a groan and fell still. Balthazar wobbled and fell off the creature, collapsing next to his team.</p><p>On the other side of the bridge, as Balthazar’s team came up with a plan Dean, Sam, Castiel and Ash were repositioning themselves, having been knocked off their previous posts. The nevermore sent another hail of feathers towards them and they all ducked behind debris. </p><p>“We need a plan!” Castiel shouted over the bird’s screeches.</p><p>“I think I’ve got one!” Dean hollered back, reloading his gun. Then he began speaking rapidly and quietly, letting off shots in between sentences. They all nodded and went off in opposite directions. Chuck narrowed his eyes and watched closely. </p><p>Dean got himself up on a pillar and yelled abuse at the bird. It didn’t take long for the nevermore to notice him. He leapt off as it charged and began firing rounds off into the bird’s mouth. The bird veered off course and went crashing into the cliff. Seconds before Dean leapt out of the way, crashing into the ground next to Sam. As he did this Castiel began teleporting, appearing higher every time he did. However, the bird wasn’t down for long. Sam stood in the middle of its view, firing at it as it got up. The bird went straight for him. He waited until it was close and then dropped to the ground. Ash appeared from behind the rock wielding his weapon like a club. He sent the bird flying into the air and back to the cliff. It veered upwards at an angle along the cliff. Straight to where Castiel was plummeting with his sword held out in front of him. By some miracle, Ash had hit the bird on direct trajectory with Castiel’s diving blade. It tore straight through the nevermore’s neck, practically ripping the bird’s head from its body. He went through the bird and kept falling. As soon as this happened, he spread out his wings to their fullest. He still barely missed becoming a splat on the ground, even with aura. Stone collided with his feet and he wavered before collapsing.</p><p>Behind him the nevermore began to dissipate into ash. Dean ran over and helped him up; Sam and Ash followed closely behind. He stood shakily with a dazed grin.</p><p>“We did it.” He gave a breathless laugh. Dean repeated the phrase louder.</p><p>“We did it!” They all joined in on the celebrations, all previous arguments forgotten in their victory. </p><p>Chuck smiled and watched as they walked back, talking about the kill, their voices high and fast from adrenaline.</p><p>“They did well,” Becky said, leaning over his shoulder and pressing into his back. Chuck hummed in agreement, watching as Dean, Castiel and his new team made their way up the cliff path. He had done well.</p><hr/><p>The hall was dimly lit. Beside him, Dean fidgeted nervously. Although he was still, Castiel couldn’t help but agree with the temperament. He just wanted them to announce his team already. This waiting was killing him. Hopefully, the other two members of his team would have less insane plans than the ones Dean came up with. Although at the time he had not seen much wrong with it, now the idea of diving straight at a nevermore like he had seemed complete lunacy. Everything in him ached with all the flying he had done. Not to mention the nausea that came from using his semblance too much. Maybe he should have told Dean about that before they put the plan in motion. Now he just wanted to know his team so he could sleep in a proper bed and get some proper rest.</p><p>“Balthazar Novak, Garth Fitzgerald IV, Joanna Harvelle, and Jessica Moore.” His brother’s name brought him out of the musings. He walked on stage as his name was called and Castiel noted that, oddly, his team had already been fighting together in the forest. His father continued. “Will form team ####.” Castiel didn’t envy the Beacon teacher’s trying to come up with team names, especially not for a team like that and with the limited time they had. “Led by Balthazar Novak.”</p><p>There was clapping and some laughter as Balthazar bowed elaborately to the audience. He was awfully happy about being made a team leader, given he hadn’t even wanted to be at Beacon.</p><p>“Castiel Novak,” Castiel straightened and made his way to the stage. “Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, and Ash.” Great he was sharing a team with two Winchesters, he just hoped the second wasn’t as much as his brother. “Will form team DAWN.” Castiel barely had time to process the team name before he was floored by the next sentence. “Led by Dean Winchester.” To his credit Dean looked equally shocked, although pleased nonetheless. Castiel looked to his father, but he was avoiding his eyes. It was probably a good thing the Castiel had, according to Balthazar, a look of permanent discontent when he wasn’t smiling. Beside him the younger Winchester rolled his eyes as Dean crowed.</p><p>“You know Sammy, if anyone won initiation, I think it was me.”</p><p>“It’s not a competition Dean,” he said, as they left the stage. Their argument lasted all the way up to their new dorm room. Ash fell into step with him behind the two brothers. They had a far more subdued conversation about the next day’s lessons.</p><p>Their room was fairly simple. Suitcases and bags were piled up in the corner, but nobody seemed to want to unpack that night. Instead, they all took their pyjamas out of night bags and collapsed on their respective beds. (After a brief argument about who slept where that Castiel was too tired to care about). He lay furthest from the door and looked at his now sleeping teammates. Ash was closest, then Sam, then Dean. Ash lay half hanging off the bed, snoring softly, while Dean had both arms round his pillow, no doubt gripping the knife Castiel had seen him put under there. Between them Sam shifted, flailing slightly before settling down again, this time facing Castiel. There was a twist of nerves in Castiel’s stomach and cold fingers ran down his spine. He shuffled in the covers and moved onto his back. The feeling faded slightly, and he sighed, thinking back to the initiation. Beacon was not exactly how he’d expected it to be.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Balthazar's team is #### because I cannot for the life of me think of a single name from the initials available. From now on it will simply be referred to as Balthazar's team. <br/>DAWN is derived from Dean, Ash, Winchester (Sam), and Novak (Castiel).</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Grimm Studies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“No!” Dean’s shout broke his concentration and he looked up to see Dean sitting up in his bed.</p><p>He saw Castiel looking and glared, “What?”</p><p>“Nothing,” he replied, “I was merely curious as to why you were shouting.”</p><p>“Well, it’s none of your business.” He growled. Then he got out of bed and headed for the shower, grabbing his night bag as he went. His shout had woken the rest of their team and they slowly followed his lead, showering and getting dressed. Castiel dressed but didn’t shower, his wings took hours to dry, he would do it in the evening. He tuned out Sam and Dean’s banter as they got ready and focused on tightening the straps of his harness so that it pulled his wings tight against his back.</p><p>“So, what now?” Dean said, leaning back in one of the desk chairs, his tie was askew slightly, and his blazer lay abandoned on the floor. His trousers were loose fitting and they rumpled awkwardly over lace up boots that were somehow already stained with mud. Sam shrugged, pulling up another chair. He was more put together than Dean and was wearing a blue jumper on top of the shirt and tie. His blazer was hanging on the end of the bed. Although, Castiel reflected, at least Dean had a tie. Ash seemed to have discarded formality completely. He was wearing an open shirt with a dark blue top underneath and black jeans. Castiel glanced over to the mirror. His own blazer was hanging over the seat he had been sitting in and his wings were bulky under his jumper. Feathers protruded from the bottom in a tight bunch. He shifted uncomfortably and looked over where his coat lay, then back at the blazer.</p><p>“We could unpack?” Sam said, like he was suggesting some great adventure. Dean scrunched his nose and Castiel checked his watch.</p><p>“We have half an hour until class. I do not think it would be wise to begin unpacking now.”</p><p>Ash nodded and took out a deck of cards. He, Dean and Sam looked at each other.</p><p>“Sooo,” Dean said, “Poker?” They all agreed and soon enough they were sat in a circle, dealing out cards. “You know how to play?” Dean asked as he handed them out.</p><p>Castiel nodded, “My brother taught me.”</p><p>“Balthazar?” Sam guessed.</p><p>“No.” Castiel shook his head. “Gabriel. He’s two years above us.”</p><p>“And I thought one older brother was bad,” Sam joked, smiling playfully at Dean. Dean glared playfully back and said with no real bite.</p><p>“Bitch”</p><p>Sam didn’t miss a beat. “Jerk.”</p><p>Castiel took the natural pause to correct him. “Actually, I have 5 older brothers.”</p><p>They stared for a moment before Dean said incredulously, “How many kids did your parents have?”</p><p>He hesitated. He never knew how to reply to that. Eventually he said quietly.</p><p>“My father had ten. My mother two.”</p><p>This was met with silence until Ash chimed in, “Well, that just makes me even more glad I’m an only child.”</p><hr/><p>Their first class was Grimm studies. The teacher was a dark-skinned man who stalked the classroom with the walk of a predator. When he spoke, his teeth gleamed, and you could clearly see the needle-sharp fangs that extended from the roof of his mouth. The first thing he did was quiz them. He handed the papers out by slamming them loudly on each desk and smiling like a cat who had cornered a bird.</p><p>“You have fifteen minutes,” he yelled when he had given them out, “Your time starts now!”</p><p>Dean looked down at the paper. Beside him Sam was already scribbling. He went to the first page of the thin booklet.</p><p><em>Question 1:</em> <em>What is the best way to defeat a nevermore? </em></p><p>Dean thought back to their initiation. A professional huntsman would probably think that was not a good strategy. Still, he had seen professionals fight nevermores before, so he started scribbling down answers, dredging up memories from years of travelling across Anima. The questions after that only got harder.</p><p>
  <em>Question 6: ‘A woman is trapped by a timber and there are two grimm going for her, on the other side there are 3 grimm attacking the communications hub for the town. You are alone.’ </em>
</p><p>
  <em>What do you save? </em>
</p><p>Dean wondered how much of a psychopath you would have to be to choose a communications tower over a helpless woman. He scribbled down his answer and his explanation, adding in some detail about different types of grimm and how this would affect the decision. Not that he would ever not choose the woman.</p><p>When the time was up, he was fairly satisfied that he had the right answers.</p><p>“While I mark these.” The professor frowned at the room. “Read chapters 1-4 of my book and answer the questions on the board.” Dean skimmed the first few pages and then gave up, it wasn’t like he didn’t already know all of this. Besides, he was sure he remembered something about knowledge only taking you so far. Castiel was reading intently, and Sam had started to answer the questions. Ash was typing slowly, although he could have been doing anything on his laptop. Dean started doodling instead. He had drawn a nevermore kidnapping Professor Walker, a boarbatusk stomping the school and a car he liked before the tests were handed back. They were slammed down on each desk with even more force than they had been the first time. Each was accompanied by a scathing remark.</p><p>“Adequate” he grunted at Sam. “Passable” he spat out at Dean before moving on to Castiel, “Very good” he grinned in what was probably meant to be an encouraging way, although it resembled a shark more. Dean glanced over to Castiel’s sheet. 89%. He had gotten the same score as Sam. What exactly was the difference between their answers?</p><p>“Son of a bitch,” he muttered, then he turned to Sam who was looking down at his own answers and the lines of red pen covering them, “You did great Sammy,” he murmured, giving him a nudge. There was a small yeah in reply.</p><p>“Alright!” Walker yelled over the quiet hum of chatter and comparing test answers, they all turned to the front. “That was absolutely pitiful, there were a few passable efforts, and one or two alright ones but I honestly question how you all managed to get into this school, especially those of you on special recommendations” Sam sunk into his seat, “However, it is true that theory only counts for so much. Bravery, determination, and honour. These are all things that count when it comes to the battlefield,” Dean added a motorbike to his doodles. “But with that you also need a working knowledge of the enemies you face.” Dean balanced his pencil on one finger, how long was this guy going to keep monologuing. “Now who amongst you believes yourself to be the embodiment of these qualities?”</p><p>“I do!” Castiel practically yelled in his ear.</p><p>“What?”</p><hr/><p>Castiel had ignored the jealousy at first. He’d thought over the initiation a hundred times and he could see why his father had picked Dean as the leader, he truly could. So, he’d held his tongue and pushed his opinions down with the scathing remarks. He’d told himself that Dean Winchester would be a good leader, he hadn’t even protested to the early morning poker game. And then their first class had started.</p><p>While Dean had seemed vaguely interested in answering the pop quiz, when it was over, he had taken one look at the book and started doodling the most inane things. Castiel had ignored it and focused on his own work. When the marks had been handed back, he wasn’t surprised by the way things went, he’d heard about Walker from Gabriel. This was just the norm; he was always like this. So, he had completely agreed with Dean’s angry statements. But just because he was not a nice person didn’t mean that he was not worth listening to. The man was a seasoned hunter, and a good one. But as he began listing off the qualities of a good huntsman, Castiel found himself becoming more and more incensed with his so-called leader. <em>This</em> was the person who was supposed to lead his team. <em>This </em>was the person he was supposed to take orders from. So, when Gordon asked for a volunteer he didn’t hesitate.</p><p> </p><p>He stood, now in his combat clothes. He still had his trench coat on and it was covering wings. Standing in front of the entire class he was beginning to see the drawbacks to this. He sighed and placed it on his desk next to Dean. Then he stretched his wings out and dropped his blade from his sleeve, ready to fight. From across the classroom the cage growled. Then the boarbatusk came crashing out of it and straight for him. He blinked to behind it and attacked with his sword. It turned and he went on the defensive. From the side he could hear his team cheering for him. He blocked them out and teleported again, this time going straight for the beast’s back. Then he leaned back and made to go again while it was down.</p><p>“You can do it Castiel!” Sam shouted.</p><p>Ash waved a little flag with their team name on it and cheered.</p><p>“Give it Hell Cas! Go for the stomach.” He turned, why did Dean insist on doing this?</p><p>“Don’t tell me what to do!” He yelled and the boarbatusk went crashing into him, sending him flying across the room and knocking the blade out of his hand. He frowned and got back up into a crouching position. From there he waited until it was charging for him and then at the last minute he teleported to his blade and drove it into its side, ending the fight.</p><p>“Well,” Professor Walker said with a tight smile, “It seems we are indeed in the presence of a true huntsman.” He clapped a hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “In training” Then he addressed the class, “Well that’s all we have time for, please finish the questions on the board for next time please. “Dismissed.”</p><p>Castiel shook off the hand on his shoulder and grabbed his stuff, then he went straight for the door, avoiding his team’s eyes.</p><p>“What’s up with him?” he heard Jo ask as he stormed out the door. But he didn’t really care. Dean was an idiot, and <em>Balthazar</em> of all people had become a team leader. Why hadn’t he been picked?</p><p>“Cas!” And he hated that stupid nickname. “Cas! Wait!” Dean caught up and cut him off as he was about to turn a corner. “What the hell was that? What’s wrong with you?”</p><p>“What’s wrong with me?! Oh, I don’t know? Maybe it’s the fact that you’re supposed to be our leader and all you’ve been so far, is an idiot.”</p><p>“An idiot?!”</p><p>“Exactly.” Castiel knew he should probably calm down. “Ever since the forest you’ve acted like this is all some joke! You don’t take anything seriously! I honestly question how you even got into Beacon with an attitude like that.”</p><p>Dean straightened up. “You don’t know anything about me! I’ve worked just as hard as you to get here! And I’m just as qualified a leader as you are! You’d never have defeated the nevermore without me!”</p><p>“No, you’re not!” They were in each other’s face now, yelling as loud as they could. “You got lucky in the forest and since then you’ve done nothing to earn your place! My father made a mistake.” He slumped, and turned away, he needed to clear his head.</p><p> </p><p>Castiel wasn’t really thinking as he flew. He was just letting his wings guide him away from Beacon and Dean and everything he hadn’t been expecting. He let the cold numb his face and his thoughts and dove down the cliff Beacon stood on. Then he went for the forest, diving and dodging through the maze. Avoiding the obstacles took all of his focus and soon he wasn’t thinking of Dean or of Beacon. Or he hadn’t been until then. Maybe he needed to land, but he didn’t yet want to go back to Beacon.</p><p>He landed in front of a small church. The white building sat framed by falling leaves and the weakening sun shone on the windows. He opened the gate and stepped up the thin gravel path. When he reached the door, he hesitated briefly and then pushed it open, wincing at the loud creak it made as he did. Inside it was cool and quiet. It held that sacred silence that churches always seemed to have.  He took and breath and walked slowly down the aisle, revelling in the peace. There were never words for the way a church felt. They commanded a respect that had you whispering even when there was no one else to hear. Footsteps echoed in the silence; their hurry seemed out of place in the sedateness of the church.</p><p>From a door at the side, an elderly man emerged. When he saw Castiel he looked concerned. The creases in his face deepened and he walked forward.</p><p>“Castiel, what’s wrong?” Castiel caught his embrace and stood in it for a while, steadying himself. His grandfather was the calming influence on them all, even if Raphael and Uriel were the only ones he was related to by blood. So, they sat and the pews and Castiel told him, about Dean, and about the team leaders. His problems and worries, like they always did, seemed insignificant in the church’s air and in earshot of someone else. When he was done, he turned to his grandad and waited.</p><p>Joshua took a breath. “Your father has his faults Castiel, however… in the many years I have known him, I have always trusted his judgement.” Castiel raised an eyebrow. “When it comes to matters of huntsmen,” he amended, “And I’m sure that he saw something in this… Dean, that you haven’t quite seen yet”</p><p>“But he’s an idiot!” Casitel protested.</p><p>“Many would see Gabriel the same way.” His grandfather pointed out. “Yet you and I both know that this is not the case.”</p><p>“I suppose,” he admitted.</p><p>“You don’t have to be a leader to make a difference, your bees should tell you that. The queen would be nothing without the rest of the hive.”</p><p>Castiel nodded and gave him a small smile, “Right.”</p><p>“And,” his grandfather added, “The Lord our God teaches that we should be thankful for what we have, and not be jealous of other’s windfalls.”</p><p>Castiel nodded and got up. “I should be going, I have a team to get back to, and a leader to apologise to.”</p><p>Joshua gave him a fond smile. “Indulge an old man,” he said, “Maybe take a look at my new plants first?” Castiel agreed.  </p><p>He left the church, after looking at his grandad’s new plants, feeling better, and determined to at least try to get along with Dean.</p><hr/><p>Dean stared as Castiel took a running jump off the balcony and flew away.</p><p>“Well, it’s a good thing you don’t have classes next.” Dean spun round to see Professor Novak standing holding a steaming mug.</p><p>“Professor.” Dean wasn’t sure what to do or say. “He was wrong, wasn’t he? You didn’t make a mistake?”</p><p>Novak sighed and swirled his coffee. “I have made more mistakes than any man, woman, or child on this planet. But at this point I do not consider your appointment as leader one of them.”</p><p>Dean grinned and was about to make a show of victory when he continued.</p><p>“However, I would not take your appointment as leader lightly. A grave responsibility has been set upon your shoulders, being a leader means you are responsible for the members of your team. I suggest you take some time to think about what you are going to do with it.”</p><p>“But…” Dean hesitated and looked at the headmaster, “I didn’t even want to come here. I could take the licensing exam right now.”</p><p>Chuck paused and then looked at him piercingly over his cup. “I know, you’re only here because your brother was given an opportunity to apply.”</p><p>Dean stared in surprise, “How did you…”</p><p>“I know that you withdrew your registration for the hunter’s exam at the same time Sam applied for Beacon. And while I don’t doubt you could pass the hunter’s exam now, an education at Beacon certainly will not hurt you. So, I suggest you think about what kind of experience you are going to have here. If not for your benefit, then for Sam’s. After all, I am sure he would not want an incompetent leader who does not care.” And with that he walked off. Dean watched him go, head spinning. He felt like someone had just stripped him bare and taken in every crevice of his being. He sighed. He should probably get those questions from Walker.</p><hr/><p>They all sat in silence. “Sooo,” Sam swung on his chair, “Are we going to unpack or…?”</p><p>“We’re waiting for Cas,” Dean said firmly.</p><p>“I don’t think he likes being called that my dude,” Ash said, not looking up from his computer.</p><p>Dean frowned, “Well it’s what I’m calling him, what the hell kind of name is Castiel anyway?”</p><p>“It’s a bastardised version of one of my aunt’s names, who was named after one of the Warriors of Light.”</p><p>Sam frowned, “I thought none of them were named.”</p><p>“In the story my grandfather told there were 4 named generals and 7 named subordinates. My brothers and I are named after them, I think the story varies,” Castiel explained. Then he looked around, suitcases and empty shelves, “I thought we were unpacking?”</p><p>Dean rubbed the back of his neck, “We were waiting for you.”</p><p>“Well,” he clicked open his case, “I’m here now.”</p><hr/><p>The cart squealed as it trundled along the concrete. It made its way through the corridors made of containers to where a single golden light flickered. There it stopped and the lid was opened to reveal the caskets of dust inside. A heavy-set man dressed in a black suit leaned over to inspect the contents. Red eyes scrutinised the contents before standing up again. He produced money from the pocket of his coat and handed it over to the man who pushed the cart. Then he opened the case once more and picked out a blood red crystal.</p><p>Crowley took a swig of his scotch and frowned. “We’re going to need more men.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Unpacking and Relaxing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sam pulled out the last of his books and set about placing them in their places on the shelves. He’d never been able to keep his books in one place before, and so he was making the most of the opportunity now and relishing in the fact that he could organise them on shelves. On the other side of the room Castiel was doing similar, only he seemed to actually know what he was doing. Sam was struggling with unpacking. The act of putting things in permanent places was unusual to him. Every time he put something in a drawer, he’d be hit with the worry that he would forget where it was. And as he shelved books, he didn’t even know how to start organising them on his shelves.</p><p>Dean seemed to be having similar problems with his clothes. He would put shirts in drawers and then seconds later take them out and begin putting them in all over again. They finished unpacking an hour after Ash and Castiel did. Castiel had filled their shelves with books, and then placed some more in piles of the floor for good measure. He also had a ridiculous amount of bee cushions and blankets, apparently because he was hard to buy gifts for. Most of Ash’s stuff was tech, it took up most of his desk, and some of the floor around it. Dean, being Dean, had about 10 weapons and about 10 times more cassette tapes and a poster of the band Ok Goodnight that he’d gotten from Gods know where. And Sam had books, and some more books, and, although he would never admit it, just as many weapons as Dean. The only problem with their brilliant unpacking was that there was no room for the beds, right now they were pushed up against each other on their sides in the centre of the room.</p><p>“We could ditch the beds?” Ash suggested.</p><p>Dean got a maniacal glint in his eye, “And replace them with bunkbeds!”</p><p>“What?” Castiel made a face resembling a startled rabbit. “Maybe we should talk about this?”</p><p>“I think it’s a practical idea if we want to keep all our stuff.” Sam said.</p><p>“Guess you’re outvoted Cas,” Dean procliamed triumphantly.</p><p>“But.” Castiel paused and then seemed to reach a conclusion. “How are we going to build them?”</p><p>Sam looked at Dean, “We can do it.”</p><p>“Yeah Sammy! Bunk beds!” Dean said smiling. Sam smiled back, remembered one cold night in east Anima when they’d stayed at a hunter’s lodge and the woman had given them a room with bunk beds. He’d asked Dean why they couldn’t stay in a place with bunkbeds all the time. Dean had told him something about how Dad had to do his job and they had to protect the world. Sam didn’t really remember, what he did remember was Dean asking at every inn they stayed at if they had bunk beds. They never found another one, but that didn’t stop Dean from asking. Every time. He’d even come up with various ways of making ordinary beds bunkbeds, until their dad had told them to stop because it cost money and the places the stayed did not appreciate Dean’s efforts. But they both remembered the basic mechanics, and they were older now, so it didn’t take long to build the bunkbeds.  </p><p>Castiel regarded them cautiously, “I’m not sure what is worse, sleeping on the bottom or the top of those?”</p><p>“Hey,” Dean protested, “They’re not that bad!”</p><p>Castiel tilted his head and regarded the bunk beds with scepticism. Then he said firmly. “I am taking that one.” He told them and dumped his bee cushions on the top left bed. Dean shrugged and took the one underneath it. Sam looked to Ash, who glanced at two remaining beds.</p><p>“I’d prefer the bottom one.” He said, shrugging. Sam nodded and put his pyjamas on the top bunk.</p><p> </p><p>Castiel lay awake that night looking over at Sam and Ash on their beds. They were both asleep already. It was strange, sharing a room with other people. He didn’t mind living with them, he had 9 siblings after all, but sharing a bedroom was something he’d never done before. Sighing he rolled over onto his stomach and stretched his wings out.</p><p>“Cas?” Dean’s voice was small and quiet. “You awake?”</p><p>“I am.” He replied, moving once more to look over the side of the bed to the bed below him. The covers were tangled in his wings now, but he ignored it. “What is it?”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Dean said, “For not taking all this seriously. I’m going to… I’m going to try and work harder.” He continued, still barely whispering.</p><p>Castiel shifted in on the bed so he could see Dean better. “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have said you didn’t deserve to be leader. It’s only been one day. There’s plenty of time for you to grow.”</p><p>Dean laughed quietly. “Yeah, I’m probably going to need it. You were right about me not being a great leader. But I'm going to try.”</p><p>“Well,” he said, moving away and trying to sort his blankets out. "I think you'll be successful." </p><hr/><p>Sam stood by the wall of the library. It was hard to believe that he’d been at Beacon for a month already. The halls were already becoming familiar to him, but it was strange to still be in the same place; strange to wake up in the same bed every morning. It had taken some getting used to: going to a shelf for a book rather than his bag; having his own desk; and the food. Sam didn’t understand how anyone could say that the cafeteria food was bad, then again anything was better than what they ate while camping on Anima. What had been more surprising was Dean cooking food in their shared kitchen. His brother had insisted after their disastrous first day as a team that they all do something together. He’d found a cooking class that weekend and then made the decision as their leader that they were going to do that. Well, he had put it to a vote, but none of them had really wanted to say no when he looked so excited about it. So, every Sunday they went to the class and learned how to cook for a few hours, Dean was surprisingly good at it. The class was led by Jo’s mum, Ellen, so Balthazar’s team was there too, and so Sam had spent quite a lot of time talking to them, mostly Jess, as well as his own team.</p><p>As if summoned by his thoughts Jess walked into the library dressed casually. He waved to her and she came over smiling. He returned the look and hoped he wasn’t blushing. No matter what Dean said this wasn’t a date. They were just going into town and nobody else was able to come. At least nobody from DAWN was able to come, he didn’t know if Jess had asked her team. She had offered to show him and Dean around Vale, but Dean had kept coming up with excuses and eventually Sam had realised that if he wanted to see any of Vale he would have to do it without Dean.</p><p>They took an airship to Vale, and started with the Great War memorial, <em>“Best to get the depressing things out the way!”, </em>and he pointed out his Grandfather. Then they moved onto other landmarks like the museum, the parks and the library. Sam would like to say he paid attention, and took in all of the culture and knowledge Vale had to offer, but he spent more time staring at Jess as she talked. Their conversation didn’t stay on the history of Vale for long, and as the tour continued they found themselves talking about far more varied topics. When asked later, Sam wouldn’t be able to recall most of them, only the way the conversation had flowed with the ease of water on a well-worn path, and the indescribable feeling he had when they talked.</p><p>The tour took them all day and ended with the two of them walking along the cliffs that looked out towards Patch. The sun was splashing vibrant colours across the sky and Patch stood out as a black blob on the horizon, tiny and insignificant. He stopped and looked at it, wondering about what could have been. Jessica stopped with him.</p><p>“What is it?”</p><p>“Nothing, its just.” He squinted at Patch, as if maybe he could see it better that way, see the house where they had lived before. “That’s where I was born.”</p><p>“Really,” she said, sounding genuinely curious about his life. “If you don’t mind me asking, why did you leave?”  </p><p>He hesitated. In the distance the little black block seemed to ask the same question. It looked like an eye staring deep into him. He blinked and turned away; the sun was hurting his eyes.</p><p>“You don’t have to tell me.” Her face was furrowed slightly. He knew he didn’t have to tell her, but for the first time he wanted to tell someone, even if it wasn’t the whole truth.</p><p>“My mum died.”</p><p>“Oh.” She turned away from Patch and stared back at Vale with him. “I’m sorry”</p><p>“It’s ok,” he said, even though it wasn’t, and it never had been, “I don’t remember her, I was too young.”</p><p>She placed a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know exactly how you feel.” She hesitated, and when she continued her voice was soft in the wind. “But my village was destroyed by grimm when I was 3, we moved to Vale after that. My parents survived, but when they tell stories about it…” She sighed. “It’s just weird, mourning someone you’ve never met.”  </p><p>He gave her a small smile. “Yeah it is.”</p><p>They walked a little more and then sat down on the cliff edge to watch the sunset. For a while they sat in silence, watching the colours as they faded into blue.</p><p>“So, is your village why you wanted to become a huntress?” He asked, adding on after he did, “You don’t have to answer.”</p><p>“It is,” she replied, “What about you?”</p><p>Sam hesitated.</p><p>“You don’t have to answer,” she repeated back to him.</p><p>He thought of his Dad and Dean. Dean had always wanted to be a huntsman, for as long as he could remember. He had always wanted to save people, and he thought hunting was the way to do it. Sam could see that his brother was trying, but he also knew that it was killing him to be at Beacon looking at books and not out in Anima. And Sam understood that. It was the mentality he had grown up with. But part of him also knew there was more than one way to make a difference. He saw the inequality and the problems in the kingdom of Mistral – problems he was sure were the same elsewhere – and he all the ways he could make everybody a little less scared, a little less angry, and a little less sad. But his father would never see any of those careers as a good thing. He’d see them as a waste of time. Why protect people from prison when they could be killed by a grimm any day. He’d never really thought about doing something else seriously. Becoming a huntsman had always been it.</p><p>Eventually he simply replied, “it wasn’t a choice, not really. It’s always been what I knew I would do.” Part of him thought that might sound noble to someone who didn’t know his family, maybe it sounded noble to Jess. Or maybe she caught the bitterness beneath his words. Either way, they didn’t speak about it again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Not much actually happens plot wise in this chapter, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. Comments and kudos are always appreciated.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>